Surrogate
by Chaogirl
Summary: A Tim Drake as Red Robin / Slade Wilson one shot. Slash.
1. Chapter 1

I was re-reading this today and I noticed some mistakes, so I made some revisions. Added a few minor lines. Etc.

Obviously I don't own the characters.

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There is a hand pushing the cowl back, and it is his hand, and the boy's cowl. The cowl itself is important; it pays homage without imitation, like the boy does. He calls this dark haired one a boy because it is convenient, but in fact, this one never really was a child.

Tim's wide eyes burn when exposed, wild blue pools set in a deep well of exhaustion . When he cards his hands through thick black hair, Tim moans, when he kisses Tim's dry lips part easily.

The rest of Tim's family can't see how broken their youngest has become. Or they see it and feel helpless against one as dark as this.

Uniforms part, scars are exposed.

The boys is riddled with scars. Ugly ridged scar tissue maps the history of his adolescence. Slade can read the brave stories of wars waged and battles fought in these lines. Fought proudly, like a soldier, like Slade himself would have. The boy's body is poetry, even when he only speaks in prose.

On the boys skin Slade can taste the salt of sweat, the copper of other peoples blood. His breath pants with the trace of carbon, of smoke and burning buildings, his discarded uniform still bears the distant scent of tear gas and gun powder. Slade's senses are overwhelmed with the violence contained within this one.

The kid cries out, but he never screams, Slade would do anything to hear that scream, but he knows he never will. Not with this one, not the prodigal.

When Red Robin reaches for the cowl, Slade knows it's over. The younger man holds it in his hands for a moment, contemplative. Slade sees in his bright blue eyes that he could call the kid back to bed, and the kid would come. That he could call the kid to his side and the kid would follow. When the cowl douses those bright blue fires, the moment has passed and another bird has flown from Slade's grasp.

"Why'd you come here tonight kid?" Slade asks, still lounged in the bed, sheet draped across him.

"I thought I needed a surrogate" Red Robin replied from the window sill before he slipped silently into the night.


	2. Chapter 2

His family was gone. He had pushed them away. Even when he misses them, he knows he made the right choice. In his line of work, one should expect to be lonely.

And undeniably, the family they had built for themselves was better for them anyway. The Titans could love and protect Rose and Joey far better then he ever could. Left with him they would just become corrupt with his darkness.

This one was different. This one was on his path to corruption long before Slade was formally introduced.

He doesn't know why he tracked Tim down again. Or he knows and he can't quite put it in words. He missed the boy in an animal way. He dreamed of sweeter bluebirds, but he knows that the Dark Robin is the only one flying within his reach.

The kid's rooms in Copenhagen were dark and cramped. They smelled of the previous tenets and the neighbors, a filth and cabbage smell. Underneath it all though, he could smell Tim. Tim would always smell faintly of violence, he could pick that peculiar scent in a crowded room.

The kid was expecting him. As little as three months ago, Slade could have snuck up on him. Not now, the kid was sharpened.

They don't speak. They don't have to, some actions speak louder then words. It's a relief to find the boy as hungry as he was. The kid is like a tall drink of water when Slade didn't even know he was thirsty. There was a new aspect to the kid, desperation or loneliness. It makes the boy cling tighter and kiss harder.

Later in a tangle of sweaty sheets, he holds Tim close as they both gasp to regain their breath. And Tim, for his part, is oddly complacent to be held. Slade wonders how long it's been since someone's held the boy, just held him, and then realization dawns upon him. With an animal sense, he knows what the boy needs.

So tangled and sweaty, and smelling of cum and sex, he holds the boy and strokes his hair, and finally he speaks. "It's going to be ok". One line. The first dialog of the evening. Tim doesn't reply, does not acknowledge, but Slade feels his grip tighten, and he knows those were the words Tim had been waiting to hear.


End file.
